A black dragon — the one with “ugly thoughts” — slowly stalked along the banks of the river, staring at Kinkajou. His forked black tongue flicked in and out, and his expression was calculating.

A few steps ahead of him was a RainWing, dappled green like the forest but not completely camouflaged. She splashed into the river and over to Kinkajou, frowning.

“Oh, it’s you,” Kinkajou said. Winter had never heard that tone of gloom from the little RainWing before. “Hi, Bromeliad. I thought you were Orchid.”

“What are you doing back here?” Bromeliad demanded. “You were supposed to stay at that school the queen sent you to! I told her you were a terrible student and would definitely fail or run off, but would she listen? Mysteriously not! And now here you are, so I suppose I was right!”

“I’m doing something important,” Kinkajou snapped. “I’m here to save the queen, if you must know!”

Winter caught the shifty expression that crossed Obsidian’s face. Maybe Moon was right. Maybe this dragon’s thoughts were as dangerous as they sounded.

Then Obsidian looked up and his gaze landed on Winter. His tail began lashing furiously.

“An IceWing,” he hissed. “In our rainforest. Don’t just lurk in the trees, friend. Come down and say hello.”

That sounded like just about the last thing Winter wanted to do, but picking a fight with a NightWing would waste time … time he needed to find his sister. He reluctantly spread his wings.

“Don’t let him bully you,” Moon whispered, catching one of Winter’s talons before he could lift off. “He’s afraid of you. He’s planning how to be as cruel and commanding as possible because he wants to see you squirm.”

“I don’t squirm for anyone,” Winter snarled under his breath.

“I know,” Moon said. “You shouldn’t. You’re a much better dragon than he is. You’re … you’re a much better dragon than most anyone.” She ducked her head to look down at her claws.

Winter blinked at her. Was that really what she thought? Even after looking inside him?

“Not me, though, right?” Qibli said, nudging Moon with a grin. “He’s not better than me. I’m awesome, right? Like, the most awesome?”

The way she smiled back at the SandWing, like she couldn’t help herself, made Winter’s scales feel all crawly and too warm. He spun away from them and leaped down to the ground.

The NightWing guard sat back on his haunches, inspecting the dragons suspiciously as Moon and Qibli landed on the riverbank as well. Having a NightWing’s gaze on him, traveling over him as though he was a half-eaten seal carcass, made Winter want to smash in some faces with his tail. He scraped his serrated claws through the damp layer of leaves on the forest floor.

“You’re the peculiar dragonet,” Obsidian said finally, narrowing his eyes at Moon. “Failed school already? Did they realize you can’t talk and send you back? What’s with the multicolored escort?” He squinted at the dragons around her. “Exactly who are you?”

“None of your business,” Winter growled.

Obsidian’s brows went up and he eyed Winter even more closely. Winter wondered if it would be a bad start if he slashed that superior expression right off the black dragon’s face.

“We’re here to see Queen Glory,” Qibli said. Winter was interested to hear a note of hostility in Qibli’s voice as well. From what he’d seen so far, the SandWing usually got along with everyone, or tried to, especially right at first. “And trust me, she’ll want to see us, so don’t be a camel-sniffer about it.”

“I have to take you to the Night Village,” Obsidian said haughtily. “That’s the protocol for new dragons in the rainforest. We’ll send her a message, and if she wants to see you, she’ll come find you there.”

“Um, no,” Kinkajou said. “Hello, I am a RainWing, not a ‘new dragon.’ I live here! I’m practically the queen’s best friend! And I’m taking my new friends to see her right now.”

The NightWing shifted his wings slightly and flicked his tongue through his sharp teeth.

“Kinkajou,” Moon said, touching her clawmate’s shoulder. “Actually, if we go to the village, I could see my mother … and we could ask whether anyone’s seen Icicle.”

“Oh — all right,” Kinkajou agreed. “But I’m going because I want to, not because anyone is telling me to.” She flared the ruff behind her ears at Obsidian, turning it orange as she did.

He smiled nastily. “Well, come along, then.”

“I’ll go tell Queen Glory you’re here,” said Bromeliad, lifting off into the trees.

Winter followed Qibli and the others, staying a few steps behind so he could keep an eye on Obsidian.

He had imagined visiting the home of the NightWings many times, but in those fantasies he always arrived at the head of a battalion of IceWings. His visions generally involved swooping down in vengeful glory, blasting frostbreath across the entire city, and wiping out the whole tribe in one icy attack.

NightWings had been the sworn enemies of IceWings for hundreds of years, but there hadn’t been any action between them during Winter’s lifetime. The IceWings had been too busy with the War of SandWing Succession — fighting nearly every other tribe — to worry about the secretive, impossible-to-find NightWings.

But then the news had arrived about the massacre at the SkyWing palace. When the tribe heard that NightWings had descended on Scarlet’s arena and slaughtered all the IceWing prisoners while they were still chained and bound … well, Winter wasn’t the only one who’d sworn vengeance. Finding the secret NightWing home had become the ambition of every young IceWing.

And now here he was, about to walk right into it.

This wasn’t the secret home, of course. This was their new home, the one they’d been driven to after the volcano erupted and wiped out their last home. Everyone knew about this one. Just like everyone knew the NightWings had no more powers, that they were resettling in the rainforest, and that a seven-year-old RainWing was their new queen.

They heard the village before they saw it: wingbeats, branches being ripped off trees, something that sounded like hammering. Winter could also smell meat cooking over a fire, and he wished he could order his stomach not to growl and embarrass him.

Then he saw black scales ahead and felt his talons start tingling. Two dragons were pacing across a path that had been cleared through the trees, evidently guarding it. Obsidian went on ahead to speak to them in low murmurs.

The NightWings glanced over and Winter’s claws curled in. If he had to die fighting NightWings, that would be a fine way to go out. Will they kill me like they killed Hailstorm?

He caught himself. It was instinct to see a NightWing and think of his brother’s death, but according to Queen Scarlet, Hailstorm wasn’t dead.

Twelve other IceWing prisoners definitely were, though. And somewhere in this village were the dragons who killed them.

Obsidian beckoned Winter and the others forward with his tail, and the two guards stepped aside to let them pass, smirking in a horribly superior NightWing sort of way.

“What do you think those smug expressions are for?” Qibli said loudly to Winter. “Doesn’t seem like NightWings have anything left to be smug about, right? I mean, they’ve gone from claiming to be the most powerful tribe in Pyrrhia to homeless and pathetic and bowing to RainWings.”

All three guards bristled, flaring their wings.

“What’s wrong with bowing to a RainWing?” Kinkajou demanded.

“Qibli, quit making things worse,” Moon hissed.

“I was just wondering,” he said calmly, with a wink at Winter.

Winter knew what he was doing, and it had worked. Qibli’s words had riled up the NightWings and made Winter feel better at the same time.

All of his senses were on high alert as they walked into the village and more and more NightWings appeared around them. His eyes darted around, assessing their activity. He expected plotting and scheming and battle training … but most of the NightWings seemed to be busily engaged in very ordinary things.

A group of ten were grappling with vines and bushes and stunted trees, trying to expand the open space. Three more were washing fruit in the river, near a set of cooking fires dug into the ground, where another four NightWings were roasting what looked like small pigs.

Several others were working on shoring up the ramshackle huts that dotted the cleared area. Winter saw a young dragon scramble onto a roof to add more giant palm leaves, only to have the entire structure cave in underneath her. She plummeted to the ground with a yell and a crash, and a few other NightWings began shouting at her.

“There were a few RainWings who might have helped them build all this,” Kinkajou explained suddenly, glancing at Winter and Qibli. “We could have showed them how to set up their village in the treetops, like ours, but the NightWings didn’t want help. Plus they thought it was too sunny up there, like, what does that even mean? How can it ever be too sunny?”

It was cooler down on the rainforest floor, but it was also muddier. Winter wasn’t sure which option he’d prefer — but he was glad he didn’t have to live here at all. He wondered if the NightWings really found it an improvement over their last home.

“Mother!” Moon cried suddenly. Her whole face lit up like the sun sparkling off a glacier. She flew across the clearing and threw her wings around a tall, thin dragon who looked a lot like Moon, without the silver teardrop scales near her eyes.

“Moon!” the NightWing gasped. Her expression went from quietly tired to startled to overjoyed, and she wrapped the dragonet in close to her with fierce affection.

Winter felt a strange twinge, watching them. IceWings don’t hug like that, he reminded himself. At least, royal ones don’t. It would be undignified. He couldn’t imagine his mother or father wrapping their wings around him. Or looking that happy to see him, for that matter.

Was this how all NightWings were with their dragonets? He glanced around the clearing, looking for dragons younger than himself, and realized there were almost none. It took him a while to finally spot one by the river, leaning against his mother’s side and helping to wash fruit. She had one wing tented protectively over him.

And there was another small dragonet over by a fallen tree, practicing her flying. A dragon who might be her father stood beside her, catching her when she fell awkwardly. There was something protective and proud about the way he was standing, too.

Winter pulled his gaze away and noticed odd looks on the other dragonets’ faces. Qibli and Kinkajou — there was something faintly wistful in their expressions as they watched Moon and her mother. He caught himself starting to wonder what their family stories were.

They look like lonely cows, he thought ferociously. I refuse to moon about like that over anything. My parents are perfect the way they are. They made me strong and dangerous — a true dragon. Stronger than anyone else here, that’s for sure.

I may not be as fearsome as Hailstorm — but still, I’m an IceWing! The greatest tribe in Pyrrhia! I must act like one, especially here, with so many NightWing eyes on me. Like Father says: Be strong, be vigilant, strike first. And trust nobody.

“What are you doing here?” Moon’s mother asked, holding Moon by her shoulders.

Moon curled her wings in, her face falling. “I didn’t get thrown out,” she said in a soft voice. “I didn’t do anything wrong, and nobody — that didn’t happen, Mother.”

Winter realized that Moon was responding to something her mother was thinking. He touched his skyfire pouch again and wondered if the little rock could protect him from all the NightWings here … or if there were other secret mind readers invading his thoughts right now.

“Shhh,” said the older dragon, pulling Moon close again. She eyed Winter and Qibli warily.

“But I did make friends,” Moon said. She wriggled out of her mother’s grasp. “You should meet them.” She turned toward the others and her eyes went wide.

“No, stop!” she shouted. “He’s not —”

Suddenly claws encircled Winter’s neck and his body was thrown to the ground with a jarring thud. Someone bigger and heavier leaped on top of him, pinning him down.

“Don’t bother struggling, IceWing,” said an unfamiliar voice. “You’re under arrest.”